Nature in the City: The various tales of nature and winter

By Elsa Lichman

Saturday

Mar 3, 2018 at 11:02 AM

As a nature writer and birder, I often hear stories of other folk’s memorable encounters with a variety of species. Sometimes I feel like command central, when in a single day, I may get texts from all over: Waltham, Newton, Gloucester, Marblehead, Lynn, Rye Beach, Salisbury and Plum Island, and more. Nature lovers are excited about these special moments and want to share them.

One friend tells me of a trip to Maine with his family. They are kayaking, and see a bald eagle on a low branch overlooking the water. Below there is an eider duck family, a mother with many ducklings.

The eagle swoops down, but just at that second, somehow the female has communicated to her brood to dive deep and fast, and they all disappear. During repeated attempts by the large raptor, it is being strafed by a wide-winged osprey. The eagle acts as if were a tiny insect, not bothersome at all. The human family are wide-eyed with excitement at this drama plays out in front of them, over and over again.

A young woman I met walking in nature told me a poignant story of an episode with an adult swan. Her house overlooked a cove and stretch of the Charles River. She was in a nightgown and long elegant silky robe, as she saw a swan hit an electric wire, become shocked, and fall into the water fairly close to the edge. She dashed out of her house, went down to the bank and waded in, as swirls of water caught her clothing, like a scene in a dark, 1800s romantic Bronte novel.

She picked up the heavy, sopping bird in her arms and carried it back to her small dock, as its mate looked on. She placed the bird gently on the dock, and the mate came up to stay with it throughout the night. By morning both birds were able to leave and return to normal life. A present day heroine saved the day.

A friend is walking in the Mount Feake Cemetery when he sees a small, dog-like coyote, just lying down on leaves cleaning itself, then cocks its head this way and that to look at him. It scratches its head with one back paw. Eventually, it slowly ambles up a hill and over the top. The coloration of the young animal is synchronous with its surroundings, its coppery tones melding with the autumn leaves around it.

Another friend spends a weekend on his new sailing vessel in R.I., and is stunned to have a close encounter with a friendly whale, which dives under the boat, emerging on the other side, staying with them for a long time. It seems curious and connective in its memorable behavior. Its trumpet whale breath, a strong exhalation, exudes fishy smelling droplets.

One friend in Canada had a small fishing boat commissioned by a group from India, in which he took them on a tour of local ocean waters, rather far out. He saw a large shape floating on the water and assumed it was jetsom of some sort, or part of a boat eerily afloat on the sea.

As they approached, they saw a creature open an enormous eye and blink slowly. This was a lone male sperm whale, 70 feet long, sleeping on the surface, in his travels to visit and mate with females in pods around the globe. This is a most unusual sighting, as so many were killed off during the whaling era. The visitors were stunned.

The key to seeing unusual sights is to be out in nature often, even if only for short visits, every day if possible. People who work outside, or on the sea for a living, are our true naturalists, as they see the environment every single day, and are there for these extraordinary events.

Because of development and the shrinking habitat for our wildlife, here in Waltham we are likely to see deer, foxes, and coyotes in our neighborhoods, along with wild turkeys, Peregrine falcons, raptors and Arctic and local waterfowl which co-exist nicely.

Black bears have been spotted in neighborhoods as close as Bedford. And snapping and painted turtles come up on land into gardens to lay eggs for the future. One family helped the tiny, young, freshly hatched offspring get to the water safely.

A neighbor created a small rock-lined pond in his private yard, stocked with fish. One day he called his wife to say a pterodactyl had found this tiny habitat and an easy meal! He was unfamiliar with our great blue heron.

I have seen turkey vultures very low down, just above the treetops, with their large dark wings in a dihedral pattern. Dog walkers did not notice. And one night, I saw a large animal skulking down the city street, go behind a small hedge, cross the road, and into bushes abutting a neighborhood house.

Sometimes I find our brains have been imprinted with a variety of species, so that when see something we can name it! I had never seen or heard of a fisher cat before, but knew with a certainty what it was. Once, far out in the river, I saw a small black water bird swimming slowly amongst a variety of waterfowl, and immediately the phrase ‘you old coot’ came to mind. It was a coot! And another time I saw a black bear pawprint next to my cabin in Canada. Even thought I had never seen one before, I knew what it was immediately, with those ghastly nail prints around a large paw impression.

We will be hearing more and more of these stories, and my hope is that we can learn to appreciate the natural beings which have been forced into our neighborhoods.

Elsa Lichman’s Naure in the City Column is a regular meditation on life and the outdoors in Waltham and the vicinity. Please send feedback to waltham@wickedlocal.com.